<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Por Latinoamérica by hellostarboy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28601238">Por Latinoamérica</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarboy/pseuds/hellostarboy'>hellostarboy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fix-It, M/M, Random use of spanish sentences, References to Depression</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:48:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28601238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarboy/pseuds/hellostarboy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The falling was the easy part of the beginning of their relationship. Will has to deal with his feelings towards Lecter, Hannibal has to let go of the past and both of them need to learn how to love; easy peasy. All this while travelling to different countries of Latin America.</p><p>A gift for May.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Por Latinoamérica</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for and because of May, happy holidays.<br/>Special thanks to Jo for being my beta reader and to Ary for always being there to help me with the plot.<br/>Also, shoutout to Le Joe Nation for forcing me into letting my creativity flow.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on, Willy! You can do it,” the voice of James Graham rang in Will’s mind. His body ached; he had fallen into the bayou of St. John once. The reason for his fall was a fish, or rather, how the light danced along the scales. His dad watched him, but he didn’t help him get back in the boat. James had warned his son not to get so close to the edge; Will, at age six, didn’t listen. His curls were stuck to his forehead, and that’s how Will realised that this was a memory. His dad always cut his hair short. His curls were a harsh reminder of the woman who once loved him, but not enough to stay with them. That, and also the dead weight he felt in his arms. </p><p>“You need to swim if you want your doudou to live, Will '' He wanted to scream to his dad to shut up; the salt of the ocean in his wounds was a reminder of what just happened: the slaying of the great red dragon. He swam to the bay, dragging an unconscious Hannibal out of the water; his breathing was shallow, almost nonexistent.</p><p>“Don’t you dare,” Will checked his pulse and found nothing. He began to perform rescue breaths; the first time their lips met was because Will was going to snatch Hannibal from death. There was something poetic about it. He stopped after five just to begin CPR.</p><p>“You can’t do this, not now, Hannibal” Just as if he had heard Will, he began to cough out all the water he had in his airway. Will turned him to the ‘recovery position’. He never thought that something he learned to help a victim could once help him to save the Chesapeake Ripper. His arms felt tired, and he let himself collapse next to Hannibal. The last thing he remembered was hearing the quiescent breathing next to him.</p><p>The feeling of the warm sun on his face woke him up. It was not the first time he woke to a sore body and dried blood. He was in a room with yellowish walls, and the air was heavier or rather warmer than in Wolftrap. He felt a wave of concern ripple through his stomach.</p><p> <em>Hannibal <em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>That was his first thought, he tried to stand up, but the spinning in his head made him go back to bed. The steps that followed his awakening were loud, but a cold hand pressed against his forehead made him stay conscious. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry.  His words ended up sounding more like grunts. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“He is fine,” A familiar voice told him, reading his mind. “You are the first to wake up.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p> <em>Chiyo </em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>Somehow feeling calmer, he passed out again. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>He woke up in a body that once belonged to him. In the past, when his psychiatrist became his friend just to stab him in the back. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p> <em>No, the stabbing came much later, he said to himself. <em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em></em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>He began to see images of a past life, one in which he felt lost. When the only thing that made him feel better was the precise words and the pristine smile of Hannibal Lecter. Once, he wished to erase all these memories when they came to hound him on dark, cold nights. He was not the same Will Graham, and yet he would see that this was the moment his feelings for Hannibal began to bloom. They were not the same; in this life, his feelings were pure and childish. The simple sight of the Bentley and the aroma of an office made him nervous. He never recognised these feelings out loud. There was no need; he was a wreck, and Hannibal was exactly the opposite. Even Alana and her broken emotional compass could sense it. In this life, there was no way he and Hannibal would end up together. The images he was seeing were passages of his life, before the blood bath. Before the fall, and the rise of them.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em></em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p> <em>The last time he sent me into a dark place, I brought something back<br/>
A surrogate daughter?<br/>
You were there. You saved her life too…  Do you feel obligated?<br/>
Yes, I feel a staggering amount of obligation. I feel responsibility. I’ve fantasized about scenarios where my actions may have allowed a different fate for Abigail Hobbs.  <em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em></em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>The only thing that bound them together was Abigail Hobbs. He could see why Hannibal had helped save her now. The whole design of the doctor was clear now; he had every single string in his hands. The conversations they had in this lifetime were in a constant rewind of his time in the Baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane. During this time, the idea of killing Hannibal emerged as a solution to his feelings for the doctor. His existence became the main cause of Will’s suffering. His reckoning was not only for putting him in jail but also for killing Abigail or making everyone see him as a killer and because he had possessed him, both body and soul. The voice of Hannibal Lecter was the only tune his thoughts danced to. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em></em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p> <em>Lost in thought?<br/>
Not lost. Not anymore. I used to hear the thoughts inside my skull with the same... tone, timbre, accent as if the words were coming out of my mouth.<br/>
And now?<br/>
Now... my inner voice sounds like you. I can't get you out of my head. <em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em></em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>Will needed him to disappear, to leave him alone. This way, he could go back to pretend to be what Will Graham was to his dogs and to bury his nature deep down, so far down that he would forget it once more. Stupidly, he believed that killing Hannibal Lecter would make all go away, he wished for some kind of miracle. One that erased him abruptly, anything other than killing Hannibal himself. Will knew from the beginning that he couldn’t kill Hannibal, maybe that’s why he sent Matthew after him, and maybe that’s why Hannibal sent Randall for him. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em></em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p> <em>No, he could kill me anytime he wants to.  <em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em></em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>But that was false, seeing the influence of Hannibal in his life made him realise something. Just as Hannibal lived inside him, Will did in Hannibal too. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em></em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p> <em>You can make it all go away. Put your head back. Close your eyes. Wade into the quiet of the stream. <em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>The only way to make it stop would mean not only killing the other but killing themselves too. Maybe that’s what Will wanted to accomplish by throwing them into the ocean. But fate and circumstance play a main key in their story once more, and they survived once more. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>Strangely, the first thing Will heard was music. It was in another language, or maybe the fall was so bad that his mind had forgotten even his mother tongue. An older woman gasped when she realised he had woken up. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“¡Joven, ya despertó! ¡Qué gusto! Le voy a avisar a la patrona” The voice of the woman sounded excited, but Will had no idea of what she had said. She disappeared through the door as he struggled to sit up in bed.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>His left side was covered in bruises. He knew this not by sight but because he felt pain. He had a needle in his arm that he pulled out without thinking. Will needed to see Hannibal, or at least know that he was safe. He stood up; the usual coldness of the floor was not there. He began to walk looking for Hannibal, not without bracing himself along the walls, worn from age.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I’m not in Baltimore anymore,” He said out loud and almost laughed. He sounded like Dorothy. He wasn’t even sure he was in the United States. Judging by the plants hanging from the windows, he was sure to be in the middle of some type of jungle. He walked until he found a room at the end of a hall. The light made it look far away from where he was standing. It took all his strength to finally make it to the door, and when he opened it, there he was. It didn’t matter where they were; they were together. As if it was a dream and he was afraid of waking up, Will came closer. He kneeled next to the bed where Hannibal was still unconscious. He looked like he was having a nightmare; sweat framed his face. He had to touch him. He needed to confirm that he wasn’t a creation of his mind. He traced the profile of Hannibal’s face with a finger, wondering if the fairy tales were right and all he needed was a kiss to wake him up. He felt dizzy at the thought.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“You are not supposed to be here,” Someone said, Will tried to stand up but his knees were too weak to carry his weight. He passed out once more. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>The next time he woke up, Chiyo was there. She explained where they were and how things were. Hannibal was still in coma; apparently, all you needed to stop Hannibal Lecter was to throw him off a cliff.  Will health had improved after an induced coma, the doctor who treated them said it was a miracle that they were both alive. The irony! Both of them were far from being saints, yet God decided to intervene on their behalf. Chiyo had taken care of everything. They were in Mexico. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>For the next three months, his life was in a constant state of waiting. He had taken care of Hannibal on his own all this time, though Chiyo was still around. The doctor said that the older man was taking his time, but he could wake up at any moment. The estate where they were staying once belonged to one of the Spanish conquerors who made the old Tenochtitlan fall. Will had read everything about it thanks to Jose Luis, the watchman that lived in the house. He had provided him with enough books about the history of the country to turn him from a lego to an expert. The estate was extensive, so there were some workers there. None of them knew the truth about the foreign American man who lived in la hacienda, Mexico was the perfect country to disappear from anything. Will knew already that everything was possible with enough money, even silence, but that wasn’t the only reason why this country was ideal to run away to. There was something about the people. They received anyone with open arms, without judgement. It was hard at the beginning, Juliana, the woman Will first saw when he woke up, was way too friendly and it took Will a couple of months to get used to her. She called him “El muchacho de los ojos tristes” and hummed the same song every time she helped him to keep the house clean. But even with them around, it was hard.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>Will had never felt loneliness in his adult life, but it was a known feeling from his childhood. He avoided Hannibal’s room when he wasn’t taking care of him. Yet, he took his time washing the body of the man, and he even shaved him. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Lo amas un monton, ‘mijo” said Juliana after seeing Will do all the work one day. He still didn’t know what she said. Spanish was a hard language to learn and even more with the colloquialisms. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>But love was not the only thing that motivated Will; there was also guilt. Some days he wondered if maybe death would have been a better ending to their story. He tried to suppress all this, but nightmares began to appear. He dreamed about their funerals. Jack would probably prefer this ending. His mind created scenarios so realistic that sometimes he could wake up feeling vertigo as a result of the waves that owned him every night. He began to prefer being asleep, or better said he preferred to have some vague certainty. Even if it caused him pain even he opened his eyes again. He cried while he bathed Hannibal. Juliana was concerned about him, so she took matters into her own hands. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>At some point, he even preferred Hannibal never to wake up again. He would have to face him, broken again. Would he be disappointed? All of this crossed Will’s mind while he cleaned the dishes from his breakfast. These days he remembered the wife of Elliot Budish and Jack with some type of camaraderie that was not there before. Also, Will understands now why Hannibal had tried to reverse that teacup. He found himself wanting to go back to the beginning to change his attitude. Maybe if he did, their love would have lasted longer. Once more, he found himself wanting to run away from Hannibal Lecter. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>But what would he be without him? Hannibal had become an essential part of him. On one of those terrible days, he went to lay next to him. In that big canopy bed with those ridiculous engravings that were the result of the collision of two great cultures. Hannibal looked more peaceful now than the first time he had seen him. He even dared to lay on his chest, and he began to talk. All these months, he had not said a word to him.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Did you know there are two types of beavers?” Silence was the only reply to his eerie comment. “European and North American, the first one is loyal to their mates for life. The second has a tendency to cheat” Not even he knew where this was going. The sounds of the medical equipment had never sounded so loud before. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I think I would never get over you, even if you…” He wasn’t going to say it. “In fact, I know it. Molly was just… ” He pressed his eyes, he was as tired. “You can’t do this to me, Hannibal,” his voice broke for a second. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“You can’t make me leave you, but this hurts… and it’s getting the best of me,” He put his hand on the wrist of the man, feeling his pulse. “I don’t think everything is lost, you know? I have shed so many tears, and yet, I’m still full of emotions.” </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“You are the only person who has made me feel, and I didn’t like it for a long time but now… Where could I be if I didn’t believe in that strange hope you have embedded in me?” He sighed. “That hope of finding someone who sees the world, not as it is but as convoluted as me… and who finds it beautiful.” </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>His chest felt heavy. For a moment, he thought that life was playing a cruel joke and that he was having a heart attack, but it was just a panic attack.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>It has been six months since the fall, and he didn’t know what was deeper; his loneliness or the sea that had once embraced them. He had just taken a shower when he saw the car of the doctor outside. He felt all the blood in his body drain to the floor as he ran to Hannibal’s room. The tears barely let him see Juliana and Jose Luis standing in the hallway. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“¡Mi niño!” The woman had tears on her face, and she hugged him as soon as she saw him. Jose Luis tried to keep her out of his way. The doctor was walking out of the room. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>“What happened? Tell me…  please,” His voice got louder when he begged her to tell him. She seemed calm, and she began to explain what happened and why she was there.  </p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>And while being hugged by a Mexican woman who had been there for him when no one was, he learned that Hannibal had woken up.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>
                  <em>
                    <em>
                      <em>
                        <em>
                          <em>
                            <em>
                              <em></em>
                            </em>
                          </em>
                        </em>
                      </em>
                    </em>
                  </em>
                </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Translations:<br/>doudou- s/o<br/>“¡Joven, ya despertó! ¡Qué gusto! Le voy a avisar a la patrona” - "You have woken up! How good! Let me search for the patroness"<br/>“El muchacho de los ojos tristes”- "The boy with the sad eyes", this is a reference to the song with the same title. The same song Juliana hums.<br/>“Lo amas un monton, ‘mijo” - "You love him a lot, son"<br/>“¡Mi niño!”- "My boy"</p><p>If you have made it this far, thank you for reading!<br/>This is my first fic so I'm a bit nervous hehe.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>